


The Celtic Fair

by Mastre



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Seduction, Sexual Content, Tumblr: imagine-loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 08:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18192137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mastre/pseuds/Mastre
Summary: After the Asgardians settle on Earth, Loki and Thor visit a local Celtic fair and somebody catches Loki's attention...





	The Celtic Fair

**Author's Note:**

> This was also submitted to [ Imagine-Loki on Tumblr.](http://imagine-loki.tumblr.com/post/183616055698/the-celtic-fair)
> 
> In this story, the Asgardian refugee ship wasn't intercepted by Thanos and they all landed safely on Earth.

Loki had rolled his eyes at the suggestion. He had little interest in mingling with mortals and they surely had even less interest in mingling with _him_. Yet, Thor had insisted that it was good for them to be seen as friendly neighbors, non-intimidating and benevolent. And what could be less intimidating than walking around in full Asgardian attire at a Celtic Fair? Several families from the Asgardian settlement were already planning to do the same, both out of curiousity and for a brief distraction from their recent tragedy.

There were flaws to Thor's logic but when it came down to it, Loki was bored. Immensely bored. Perhaps the mortals' reaction to his presence could provide some much-needed entertainment.

* * *

They did draw attention. A couple of young girls literally squealed when Thor walked by and he smiled at them, causing yet another outburst of indignified noise. Even with short hair, he was easily recognizable. Loki less so, since the news had mostly portrayed him in full battle armor and helmet after the invasion attempt on New York. Still, people were bound to figure out who he was fairly quickly.

Unimpressed, he let his eyes wander, not expecting to find much of interest in the sales of clothes and trinkets or the various activities offered. He wondered if a little magic at the right moment would send people fleeing but discarded the idea as quickly as it occurred. The negotiations for a permanent settlement were still ongoing; it wouldn't do good to cause havoc at such a sensitive stage.

Then he laid his eyes on her.

It was a Midgardian woman in Viking attire, currently busy with making an intricate braid in a man's long hair. Her deft fingers worked with ease, twining one strand around another in a delicate pattern. There was not only skill but also joy in what she was doing and Loki found himself watching till she was finished.

"Brother?"

"Go on," he said, not taking his eyes of the woman. "I will see you shortly."

Acting on a whim, he walked up to the stand once the other man left. The maiden had her back turned and he was just a bit too close before speaking, thus calling her attention.  
"Perhaps I could persuade you to do mine?"

She abruptly turned around, almost bumping into him, and her eyes went wide.  
"I... I'm... Oh, my God!"

Suitable response; he couldn't fault her for that one.

"My apologies. I didn't intend to startle you."

Which was a lie, of course. Her reaction pleased him.

With a nervous giggle, she gestured towards the chair.  
"No, no problem. Please, take a seat."

Her hands were trembling just a little as she ran her fingers through his hair, separating the strands and feeling its texture.  
"There are several styles to choose from. Do you have a preference?"

Indeed, he did but it had little to do with braiding.  
"How about choosing one you find suitable?" he said. "Surprise me!"

"I can do that..." She was beginning to recover, sounding slightly more confident.

Her hands felt warm and soft as they brushed against his skin while she gathered a strand of hair and began working it.

"I've seen Asgardians around all day," she said, "but you are the first I get a chance to braid."

"And you can tell who is Asgardian and who is not?" he teased, picking up the thread of conversation.

"Well, you dress differently. "She giggled again. "Though most of them don't wear armor pieces. And you're a bit taller than us."

Indeed. The differences between their species were subtle but undeniably there. It made him wonder what the mortal woman's embrace would feel like; if it'd be as soft as her hands.

"If you used less product in your hair, the natural curls would come out more," she suggested.

"I find it somewhat easier to maintain this way," he dismissed, almost allowing himself to relax under the meditative movements of her fingers. This mortal had a magic of her own.

"Yes, curly hair can be hard to manage," she agreed. "It would suit you, though."

The way she said it sounded more like a compliment than a mere observation. 

"Do you happen to know who I am?" he asked.

She paused for a moment before answering.  
"You're Loki, aren't you?"

Ah, she did recognize him, yet her nervousness wasn't one indicative of fear. It seemed more like an eagerness to please, to gain his approval. How delightful!

"That is my name," he confirmed. "You don't seem intimidated by my reputation?"

"Uhm... I guess not. I mean, I've heard of you; I just..." She seemed to struggle with finding words.

"Then I'm pleased by your confidence," he said, reaching up to casually brush his fingers against hers.

Her breath intake was audible. And then the giggling started again.

It should have annoyed him but for some curious reason, it didn't. She was taken by him, that was what mattered. This was going to be fun.

"Your hands are quite skilled," he observed. "I don't suppose you give massages as well?"

The giggling abruptly stopped.  
"I... I do, actually, but not here."

"Somewhere more private, I imagine?"

"Yes..."

Oh, this was too easy. He hadn't really planned on taking it that far but something about this woman... She seemed to find delight in handling his hair, touching it in a way that was unmistakenly sensual. It made his loins stir.

"I don't suppose I could persuade you to show me?"  
He was making sure to strike the right tone; not too assertive, just enough to lure her in, to tickle her interest.

In the corner of his eye, he saw her look around, biting her lip.

"I live close-by. Just down the road."

There was urgency in her voice, a fear of missing an opportunity.

"I wouldn't want to take you away from your livelihood," he said. "Perhaps another time..."

"No no no, this is not a livelihood. I do these fairs for fun."

She finished the braiding, her hands trembling somewhat. Loki hid his smile. Too easy, indeed.

* * *

It was as close as she had promised; a small dwelling without excesses but certainly livable. Few rooms, of which one was dominated by a loom.

"You make your own garments?" He eyed the fabric of her clothing, remarkably authentic-looking in color and pattern.

"I like working with my hands."

"Do you, now?" 

She blushed at his suggestive tone. So bashful on the surface, yet... something else underneath. He couldn't wait to unveil it.

The first kiss was soft, almost chaste. She was a mortal, after all. He needed to find out just how much her body could handle.  
This close, however, the scent of her arousal became noticeable to him and the effect went straight to his groin. 

"How about you show me..." He kissed her again, with more force. "... what you can do with those hands."

The hands in question had been resting on his waist but, encouraged by his words, she slid them down over his hips, fingers trailing over the leather. She was reluctant, perhaps fearful of acting too forward, but it didn't take long before one of her hands cupped his front and a small gasp escaped her lips.

The scent of arousal became stronger. He had always been sensitive to such, though he preferred to not think about where that particular trait might come from. There were a number of smaller things he'd become aware of after discovering his heritage, things that set him apart in subtle ways, things not fully concealed by his Asgardian form.

He had yet to come to terms with them all, but this one... was useful.

Holding her in a firm grip, he brushed his lips against her jaw as her hands found the fastenings of his pants. He suckled on her neck, nibbling without breaking the skin.

 _Don't be too hasty_ , he reminded himself, though it was more than a little tempting to simply force her onto the bed and take his pleasure from her. _Ease her into it._

His determination to go slow was severely challenged when her hands embraced his manhood, stroking it with something akin to reverence. Norns, how could a mortal woman have such an effect on him? He had gone long without but still...

"Is this how you normally perform your massages?" he murmured against her ear, letting his own hands wander over her backside and cup the delicious curves.

"No..." Her breath was warm against his skin, making his cock twitch in her hands. "But I'd like to give you one of those too if you don't mind."

The answer pleased him. She was sincere, he could tell.  
"Mmm... perhaps you should."

He lifted her up, unable to contain himself any longer, and carried her to the bed. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. As he put her down, she didn't let go and he allowed himself to be pulled down over her. It was a moment's work to remove both of their clothing.

_Sweet Norns and Valhalla's fields of glory!_

She spread her legs for him, inviting him in, and he rubbed the tip of his engorged manhood against her entrance, drawing another gasp from her lips. She was more than ready to receive him, he felt, as her folds yielded and he slowly pushed inside and sheathed himself in her slick warmth. It was like being embraced in the most delicious manner and he had to close his eyes for a moment, taking in the sensation fully.

The soft yelp she had uttered as he entered her only added to his arousal.

He began to move, carefully at first, stretching her gently with slow thrusts.  
"How does it feel to be desired by a god?" he murmured in her ear, angling his hips to feel the full extent of her tight hold.

"Goo-od," she managed to get out, on the brink of ecstasy already.

"Not yet, my sweet," he whispered, deliberately keeping her on the edge. "Not yet."

She whimpered under him and he carefully used his fingers to caress her where she'd feel it the most, yet keeping the pleasure just out of her reach.

She was so easy to read, so open and pliant. He could use her as he wanted; she'd probably go along with anything he'd ask. 

The possibilities... The mere thought brought him higher and he began to thrust harder, faster, wanting to hear her whimpers and cries as he buried himself deep, selfishly, taking everything he wanted from this foolish mortal before emptying himself inside her.

Oh, it was delicious. How she moved against him, desperate for release. The way she gripped at his arms, digging her fingers into his skin while her eyelids fluttered.

He grabbed her wrists in a swift move and pinned them to the bed. Euphoric from lust, he forced her legs farther apart, clenching his teeth at the rising tension in his loins as he ravished her and when his seed spilled into her, he felt her shudder and clench around him, milking him to the last drop.

With a deep sigh, he rolled over on his side with her still in his arms, unwilling to let go. His manhood was still buried inside her, her whole body warm and flustered against his. With a healing spell, he took a moment to make sure he hadn't damaged her during his fierce rut. That would be unfortunate and could lead to unwanted consequences.

She was holding on to him, breathing heavily against his neck. There were no signs of regret for giving herself to him. Not that he truly expected such; he had left her satisfied enough.

The thought of his seed inside her made him harden again but he thought it wise to give the woman a minimum of rest. Instead, he caressed her back and hips, delighting in the softness of her mortal skin. So delicate, so warm and smooth. His fingers traveled down to her thigh, now wrapped over his hip, and stroke it eagerly. It was a long time since he had allowed himself this kind of closeness and he couldn't resist indulging in it. It was almost as intoxicating as the sex itself.

It didn't take long before he began moving against her again, unable to hold back any further. Her body called him, making him want to do wicked things, turn her willingness into total submission. 

He restrained her legs, making her unable to move as he pushed deep inside her with long, lazy strokes.

"You are mine now," he murmured, brushing his sharp teeth against the tender skin on her neck.

She shuddered at the contact, gripping him tighter. Briefly, he considered restraining her hands again but the want and eagerness with which she was holding on to him were arousing in itself.

Caressing her breast, he wet his thumb before circling the nipple. The slight clench around his manhood told him how she felt about it. So easy to arouse... Had he known this, perhaps he would have explored it sooner but mortal women hadn't appealed to him in the past. Somehow, this one was different.

So different, he couldn't get enough of her.

She attempted to wrap her legs around him and he hooked them over his arms to lock her firmly under him, opening her up to forcing himself deeper inside. The look on her face was one of pure bliss and he covered her mouth with his own, muffling those delightful moans and gasps as she once again succumbed to him and received his seed.

* * *

It was almost nightfall when he finally felt satisfied enough to return to the settlement. The mortal was exhausted and though he had healed her, she might still be suffering some aches and bruises the next morning. The thought of it, of him leaving his marks on her, pleased him a lot more than he would have expected.

"Will you come back?" she mumbled as he adjusted the bed covers over her.

"Would you want me to?" he asked, not sure of the feeling her question evoked in him.

"Yes... I'll miss you... if you don't come back." She was half asleep already, barely knowing what she was saying.

"Well, then perhaps I will."

"Your braid is coming loose," she said as last before burrowing deeper into the pillows and closing her eyes.

He touched his hair. Indeed, it was.  
"You will have to make me a new one tomorrow," he whispered as he leaned over and touched his lips to her brow.

She smiled.

Quietly he moved away, passing her nightstand where a big book named "Norse Mythology" with a ridiculously inaccurate picture of himself on the cover rested, turned off the lights and left the house.

It had been a long time since he'd last felt such ease of mind.

He would be back.

Very soon.


End file.
